They rummage through the various lines of transmission, searching for anything with which to belittle him and deny him his due—spurred on by their hatred of the Rāfiḍites and by a wish to burden ʿAlī with what is not his responsibility. That, quite simply, is ignorance itself.

Your surest course is neither to perish through excessive love for him nor through excessive hatred of him. Do not nurse a grudge against him on account of another’s offense; should you do so, you are a benighted soul who has gone to extremes in hatred. Instead, acknowledge the place he held with the Messenger of God: reared under his care, bound to him in brotherhood and by marriage; patient in striving against the Prophet’s enemies; ready to lay down his life in battle before him; eminent in knowledge, religion, courage, and virtue. Yet do not raise him above the station assigned to him by the foremost of the early Muslims. They knew him—and others—better than anyone, and what they agreed upon is direct evidence that admits of no doubt.

As for transmitted reports, distortion and admixture can creep into them. Now, if it is your reverence for the Messenger of God that moves you to love someone who disputed with ʿAlī, fought him, and cursed him—though that Companion had accompanied and served the Prophet—and you accept this out of submissive deference, then you are even more entitled to hold such deference toward ʿAlī himself. His precedence, his merits, his special standing, and his kinship—all heightened by the closeness God established between him and the Messenger during the incident of mutual imprecation—make that abundantly clear. For when God said, “Say, ‘Come, let us call our sons and your sons,’” the Prophet called al-Ḥasan and al-Ḥusayn; “and our women and your women,” and he called Fāṭimah; “and ourselves and yourselves,” and he called ʿAlī. Whoever seeks insight, God grants it; whoever seeks otherwise, He is left bewildered.